Four Times Someone Took Care of a Sick Neal
by OwenHarpersGirl
Summary: ...and one time he took care of someone else. Contains sick!Neal, brotherly Peter/Neal, brotherly Neal/Mozzie, father/son Sam/Neal, Sara and Neal, and future!Neal/Sara. Each chapter is a different time Neal was sick and someone took care of him, the chapters are not connected
1. Peter and El

Four Times Someone Took Care of Neal when he was Sick…

Peter and Elizabeth

**Disclaimer: I do not (unfortunately) own _White Collar_**

Neal walked down the steps of June's mansion towards Peter's car, trying hard not to move his pounding head too much.

"You okay?" Peter asked as soon as Neal was in the car, "You look kind of pale."

"I'm fine," Neal said, "Just tired." Peter didn't push it, but kept an eye on Neal for the entire drive to the Bureau, noticing how his CI leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes. When they finally arrived at the FBI and got out of the car, Neal had to grip the door for a moment to stop the parking garage from spinning.

"You sure you're okay?" Peter asked again.

"Fine," Neal insisted as they started walking into the office. Peter didn't say anymore and for a while Neal really did appear to be fine. It wasn't until several hours later when the topic of Neal's health was once again brought to his attention.

"Hey Boss," Diana said, sticking her head in the door.

"Hey," Peter replied, "What's up?"

"I think something's wrong with Neal," Diana said, "He says he's fine, but he just doesn't look right." Peter looked through the bullpen and towards his CI's desk. Neal was leaning back in his chair, clearing trying to look like he was okay, but also clearly not.

"Thanks Diana," he said, walking out of his office.

"Hey," Peter said, approaching Neal's desk, "You alright?"

"That's the third time you've asked me that," Neal said, his voice much raspier than it had been that morning.

"Come on," Peter said, grabbing Neal by the elbow and helping him up.

"Where are we going?" Neal asked as he and Peter headed into the elevator.

"I am taking you to my house where El and I can keep an eye on you until you're healthy again."

"But I'm not sick," Neal said. However, at that moment, his body decided to betray him and he started coughing violently. The sound echoed throughout the elevator and Peter put his hand on Neal's back to steady him.

"Okay," Neal breathed, "Maybe I am sick." Peter chuckled quietly and when the elevator stopped he led Neal out of the bureau and through the parking garage until they reached his car. The drive to the Burke house was silent, and Peter was surprised to find he missed the constant banter that usually occurred when he was with Neal. Eventually they pulled up in front of the house and Peter helped the younger man out of the car.

"Hey hun!" Elizabeth called when she heard the front door open, "What are you doing home righ–oh! Hi Neal, is everything okay?" She immediately noticed how pale Neal was and knew something was wrong.

"Neal's sick," peter explained, "I figured he could come back here and sleep for the rest of the day. It'll be easier for me to keep an eye on him rather than if he was at June's."

"Of course," Elizabeth said, "I'm working from home today so if you need to go back to the office I can keep an eye on him."

"Thanks hun," Peter smiled. Elizabeth gently took Neal's arm and led him over to the couch.

"You lie here," she said gently, putting a pillow under his head, "I'm going to make you some tea." Neal nodded slightly and then closed his eyes, grimacing as his head pounded. He lay there silently for a moment, but then opened his eyes again when he felt something cool on his forehead.

Peter held his hand there for a moment, noting how warm his CI was. He was just thinking about getting the thermometer when Elizabeth returned with it and the cup of tea she had promised.

"Neal sweetie, can you sit up for a minute please?" El asked gently and Peter helped him sit up. Elizabeth and Peter sat down on either side of him, helping him to remain where he was.

"Open up," El said and Neal did so without comment, proving to them just how ill he felt. Elizabeth stuck the thermometer under Neal's tongue and the three of them say in silence as they waited for it to beep.

"102.8," Elizabeth read out, "I think I'll make up the spare room for you tonight."

"You really don't have to –" Neal started, but Peter cut him off.

"You're staying here until you're better," he said firmly and Neal just nodded.

"Well now that that's settled, I'm going to get the spare room ready," Elizabeth said, walking up the stairs and leaving the two men alone.

Later that night, Peter and El were asleep in their bed, unbeknownst to them that Neal was tossing and turning in the guest room down the hall. Suddenly, he bolted upright in the bed and then stumbled his way out of the room. He made it to the bathroom just in time to hunch over the toilet and vomit violently. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, but eventually he felt a firm, yet gently hand rubbing circles on his back and a quiet voice in his ear.

"Shhh, you're okay Neal," Peter said quietly, taking a cool cloth from his wife and placing it on the younger man's neck, "That's it buddy, you're alright." Eventually it stopped, and Neal felt himself being pulled back to lean against Peter's chest. He was covered in sweat and was shaking harshly.

He felt Peter pushing him forward gently and couldn't help the small noise of protest that escaped his throat. He didn't want to move; he didn't want to be alone right now. Not a moment later he was being pulled back again so he was leaning against Peter's chest, but he was much warmer now. He realized Elizabeth had wrapped a blanket around his shoulders.

"You're alright Neal," Peter said quietly.

"Don't feel alright," Neal mumbled.

"I know buddy, but you will be," Peter assured him.

"And until you are," Elizabeth added, "We'll look after you."

"Thanks," Neal said quietly.

"It's what families do Neal," El said simply, and Neal couldn't help the small smile that crossed his face. He was home.

**So what did you guys think? This is my first attempt at a "Four Times…One Time" story so I'm hoping I'll do it justice.**


	2. Sara

Sara

Sara awoke with a start when she felt the person lying next to her toss and turn violently. Neal groaned in his sleep, his body was coated in a thin sheen of sweat.

"Neal," Sara said quietly, placing her and on his bare chest, Neal, wake up." Her boyfriend didn't respond, instead he rolled fitfully again, groaning in discomfort.

"Neal wake up," she spoke louder, shaking him gently. Neal's eyes opened wide and he shot up in the bed with a gasp. He immediately clapped his hand over his mouth and bolted off the bed toward the bathroom. Sara sat shocked for half a second before she got off the bed and followed him.

She found him hunched over the toilet and dropped to her knees next to him, rubbing his back gently.

"Shhh, it's okay Neal, you're okay," Sara murmured, feeling the muscles under hand contract and relax. Eventually it stopped and Neal leaned back. Sara ran her hand through his hand and brought it to rest on the back of his neck.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly, already knowing the answer. Neal shook his head and then shifted so he was leaning against the wall of the bathroom. Sara saw how pale he was and noticed he was sweating and shaking. She put the back of her hand on his forehead and removed it right away, burning from his fever.

"Come on," she said, gently tugging on his arm until he stood. Sara led him back to the bed and sat him down before walking back into the bathroom. She returned a moment later with the thermometer and a cool cloth. She stuck the thermometer under his tongue and sat next to him, rubbing the cloth gently up and down his back.

"I'm sorry about this," Neal said quietly.

"103.2" Sara read out and then asked, "What are you apologizing for?"

"You just moved in a few weeks ago and now suddenly you have to deal with this," Neal said.

"I'm not 'dealing' with anything," Sara told him, forcing him to lie back down, "You're my boyfriend and you're sick, that means that I'm going to take care of you until you're better." Neal smiled and pulled her down next to him, already starting to fall asleep.

"Hey Sara?" Neal said and she looked down at where his head lay, resting against her shoulder while she ran her fingers through his unruly hair.

"Yeah?" she replied quietly.

"I love you." Sara smiled widely.

"I love you too Neal."

**Alright, I wasn't crazy about this one. Especially the end, and I was a little worried it was kind of out of character. But yeah, I hope you guys liked it!**

**Thanks so much for the reviews and favourites and follows! It's so amazing!**


	3. Mozzie

Mozzie

Neal and Mozzie walked through the door of Neal's little apartment after just pulling off a con.

"You know," Mozzie started, "I think that went well, all things considered."

"Would've been better if the guy hadn't owned a giant dog," Neal commented, examining the bite on his arm.

"Well, yeah," Mozzie said, "Are you sure you don't want to see a doctor?"

"I thought you hated doctors?" Neal replied with a smile.

"I know a guy that could probably help you," Mozzie stated simply, "But if worse comes to worse we could give you a new alias and take you to the hospital. I'm willing to put Mr. Ivan Bliminse in the system if it means you don't die from an infection."

"I think I'll be fine Moz, but thank you," Neal chuckled and Mozzie shrugged.

"Alright, but put something on that," Mozzie insisted and Neal nodded. Neal cleaned up the bite and bandaged it before going and sitting on his bed.

"You staying here tonight?" he asked his friend.

"I was think I might crash on your couch tonight, not really in the mood to head out right now," Mozzie said.

"Alright, well I'm going to sleep now, so do whatever it is that you do," Neal smiled.

"Alright man," Mozzie said, "I'll probably have a drink and then sleep myself. Neal nodded and lied down, wanting nothing more than to have a peaceful sleep.

However, a couple hours later Mozzie was woken by loud groaning. When he sat up on the couch he saw Neal sleeping fitfully; tossing and turning, crying out in his sleep.

"Neal," Mozzie said, walking over and shaking his friend, "Neal, wake up." He felt his friend's forehead and found it to be burning with fever. Pulling the blanket off Neal's shoulder and removing the bandage from his arm, Mozzie saw that the bite was clearly infected.

"M-Moz," Neal said between his chattering teeth, blinking his eyes tiredly as he woke up.

"Right here man," Mozzie said, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Really wish that guy di-didn't have a dog," Neal chattered.

"Yeah," Mozzie said, trying to smile at his friend's attempt at humor, but he was unable to. He was genuinely worried about Neal; he was the closest thing Mozzie had to family.

"Come on then Mr. Bliminse, we're getting you to a hospital," Mozzie said.

"N-No," Neal breathed raggedly.

"Neal, believe me, I want to go to the hospital even less than you do, but I'm not about to let you die on me," Mozzie said.

"No hospital," Neal insisted, "P-Peter."

"What?" Mozzie asked, sure he had heard Neal wrong.

"Call Peter," Neal said, shaking violently.

"You want me to call the Suit?" Mozzie said incredulously, "The same Suit who is looking to arrest you?"

"He'll know what to do," Neal wheezed, "He has a dog."

"Seriously, is he trying to catch you, or are you trying to catch him?" Mozzie said sarcastically.

"Keep your enemies close," Neal replied with a small smiled, "Please Moz, call him."

"Fine," Mozzie said, "Give me a minute so I can have the cell phone signal bounce between towers. Then when we're done we destroy and get rid of the phone as quickly as possible." Neal nodded and buried himself further down into the blankets in his attempt to get warm. Mozzie fiddled with the laptop for a moment before he picked up the cell phone, took a deep breath, and dialed.

_"Hello?"_ a deep and tired voice said on the other end and Mozzie realized they had probably woken him up.

"Neal's sick," Mozzie said immediately, deciding to get straight to the point.

_"What? Who is this?"_ Peter asked.

"A friend of Neal's –" Mozzie started.

_"Neal Caffrey?"_ Peter questioned.

"Yes Neal Caffrey," Mozzie said, "And feel free to try and trace this call, you still won't find out where we are. Now, shut up and listen Suit, the only reason I'm calling is because Neal asked me to."

_"Neal asked you to call me?"_ Peter asked.

"Yes, he's hurt and for some reason has it in his head that you can help him," Mozzie stated.

_"What's wrong with him?"_

"He was bitten by a dog," Mozzie explained, "He was fine a couple hours ago, but now he's got a fever, chills, he's having a hard time breathing…"

_"Alright, do you know what his temperature is?" _Peter asked.

"Hang on." Peter could hear the man on the other end of the phone shuffling around. He heard someone talking and then a sudden moan of pain.

"What's wrong?" Mozzie asked as he helped Neal sit up.

"Everything hurts," Neal admitted quietly.

"Alright, I've got the Suit on the phone and he needs to know your temperature," Mozzie explained, starting to really worry about his friend. Neal opened his mouth and Mozzie stuck the thermometer under his tongue. He could hear the Suit explaining what was happening to who Mozzie assumed was his wife.

"104.5" Mozzie told Peter who cursed quietly.

_"You need to get him to a hospital right now," _Peter said firmly.

"He won't go," Mozzie said, "He wanted me to call you."

_"Put him on the phone,"_ Peter said.

"The suit for you," Mozzie told Neal, placing the phone in his trembling hand.

"Hey Peter," Neal said, "Long time no talk."

_"You need to go to the hospital," _Peter said, ignoring Neal's reference to the late night international calls.

"No can do Agent Burke," Neal wheezed, "That would make it way too easy for you to catch me, and where's the fun in that?"

_"Neal, I'm gonna make you a deal alright?" _Peter said,_ "You let your friend take you to the hospital and I won't make any attempt to find you until sometime after noon tomorrow."_

"Why would you do that?" Neal asked.

_"Because if you die from infection then the catch is no fun for me either Caffrey,"_ Peter said, _"Now go to the hospital."_

"Okay," Neal whispered, hanging up the phone and looking at Mozzie, "Let's go to the hospital."

"There we go, now you're talking sense. Come on then Ivan Bliminse," Mozzie said, pulling Neal to his feet.

"Hey Moz?" Neal said.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," Neal smiled slightly at the shorter man.

"Any time Neal, now let's go."

**Wow, that one took on a mind of its own and it somehow ended up being sort of Mozzie and Peter when it was originally just gonna be Mozzie.**

**Anyway, I hope you liked it! Let me know what you thought! I have school tomorrow, but I generally procrastinate on homework by working on fanfiction so the next chapter should be up tomorrow or the day after.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	4. Sam

Sam

**Warning: Contains spoilers for season 4 episode 10**

Neal was lying in his bed in June's mansion coughing. Peter had sent him home from work when he realized the young ex-con was sick. Neal really wished Peter hadn't sent him home. He felt like crap and he was bored out of his mind.

Mozzie was busy, Peter, Jones, and Diana were at work with a new case, June was away visiting family, and Sara wasn't able to get away from work until later. So, Neal was left to his own devices. He had tried reading, but it gave him a headache. He tried painting, but it made his head spin. In the end, Neal decided to try and sleep.

Just when he was starting to finally drift off, there was a knock on the door. He opened it, expecting to see Peter or maybe Sara, but instead he saw Sam, his father.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Neal asked, trying to be polite as he stepped aside to let Sam in.

"Your handler called me, said you were sick and here by yourself so I decided to stop by and see if you needed anything," Sam explained.

"Well, thanks, but I'm fine," Neal said just as he started coughing harshly.

"Oh yeah, you're fine," Sam said sarcastically.

"Yeah, I am, now feel free to leave," Neal snapped, dropping the niceties.

"Neal come on," Sam said, voice changing from sarcastic to pleading, "I'm trying to help."

"Why?" Neal asked, "You've never cared before, so why start now?"

"I always cared," Sam told him quietly, "Even when I wasn't there."

"Yeah, sure," Neal said and then started coughing violently again. His eyes watered and he grabbed hold of the back of a chair as he tried to catch his breath.

"Easy now, try and take deep breaths," Sam said quietly, putting his hand on Neal's back. Neal eventually caught his breath, but now he was exhausted. He leaned heavily on the chair, trying to stay standing on his jelly-like legs.

"Come on, sit down," Sam said, helping Neal to sit in the chair.

"Why are you here?" Neal gasped out, putting his head in his hands.

"Because I wasn't for so long," Sam said, also sitting, "Neal, I know you're angry at me, and you have every right to be. You came to me looking for answers and I didn't give them to you. I should have told you who I was sooner and I am sorry that I didn't." Neal didn't say anything so Sam took a deep breath before continuing.

"Neal, I'm no good at apologies, but I am sorry. I'm sorry I left when you were three, I'm sorry you spent years of your life not knowing who you were, and I'm sorry I never told you who I was," Sam said, "When I confessed, I knew what would happen to you. I did it to protect you."

"I know," Neal said, coughing again, "And I don't want to be mad at you, but I have been for years now, and I just don't know how to do anything else."

"Well, how about this: I'll stay here with you today and then, once you're better, you can decide if you're still angry with me," Sam suggested and Neal couldn't help but smile.

"Sounds like a plan," he said.

"Alright, you go lie on the couch and I'll make you some tea," Sam said, standing up and walking over to the kitchenette. Neal stood too and walked over to his couch, his head pounding with every step he took. When he lied down he closed his eyes, ready to sleep for the rest of the day.

"Here," he heard a voice say, and when Neal opened his eyes again he saw Sam standing over him with tea and a thermometer. Neal stuck it under his tongue, feeling very much like a small child; especially when Sam rested his hand on Neal's forehead.

"You're so young," Sam said quietly, seeming lost in his own thoughts, "I know you're grown up and you're not the same little boy I knew all those years ago, but you're still so young, and I really wish I could've been around to see you grow up. I really missed a lot, didn't I?"

"A bit," Neal conceded, "But if you do plan on sticking around then I'm sure you'll be here for more than you missed. I would tell you that you got lucky and missed the angsty teen years, but Peter says I still act like I teenager, so…" Neal shrugged slightly and Sam chuckled.

"I think I'm okay with that," he said, "Now, try and get some sleep." Neal nodded, closing his eyes once more and drifting off to Sam's voice. When Neal awoke a few hours later, he heard two voices talking quietly. He sat up slowly and saw Sara and Sam sitting at the table talking.

"Hey sleepyhead," Sara said smiling.

"Hey," he said, rubbing his eyes tiredly, "How long was I out?"

"Long enough for me to finish work and get here as Sam was making dinner," Sara told him as he stood and walked over to them.

"How are you feeling?" Sam asked as Neal sat next to his girlfriend.

"A lot better, thanks," Neal replied, "I see you two have been getting to know each other."

"Yeah," Sam said, "I understand congratulations are in order." Neal looked at him confused for a moment before turning to Sara.

"I may have told him about the baby," she said slowly and Neal laughed quietly.

"Of course you did," he chuckled, smiling at her.

"Well, I should get going, leave you two alone to eat," Sam said, standing.

"You're leaving?" Neal asked, and he was surprised to find that he really didn't want him to.

"Yeah, I'll come by tomorrow to check on you," Sam informed him.

"You don't have to leave," Sara said, knowing Neal didn't want him to.

"No, no, I don't want to be in the way," Sam said.

"You're not in the way, please stay." Sam looked hesitant so Neal continued, "You said I could decide when I felt better. Well, I feel better and I'd really like it if you would stay." Sam looked at him for a moment and then at Sara who was smiling encouragingly at him.

"Well, who am I to give up the chance to have dinner with my son and his girlfriend?" Sam said, sitting back down. Neal smiled at him, finding himself completely happy for the first time since finding out Sam was his father.

**Okay, I wasn't crazy about the end and this went a totally different direction than originally planned. There was a bit of Sara/Neal in there because I had wanted that chapter to be longer, but I just didn't know how to continue it.**

**Next chapter is the last chapter! Let me know what you thought! Thanks for the reviews!**


	5. Sawyer

Sawyer

"Shhh, shhh, it's alright," Neal murmured, pacing back and forth, "It's alright." He stopped his movements long enough to remove the beeping thermometer from the one year old's ear.

"101.3," Neal read aloud to himself, "Better call mommy and have her pick up some baby Tylenol." Neal walked over to pick up his phone, hitting speed dial and waited for his girlfriend to answer.

"Hey… yeah that's him crying… No we don't have any, would you be able to pick some up on your way home? …Great, see you soon." He hung up the phone and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Shhh buddy, I know, I know, you feel lousy," Neal said quietly, turning Sawyer around so he was curled up in the crook of Neal's arm. Sawyer gripped Neal's shirt tightly as he pressed his feverish cheek against the cool material.

"Go to sleep buddy," Neal whispered, running his finger soothingly over Sawyer's face. The eighteen month old started to drift off, calmed by daddy's actions.

"There we go, nice and calm," Neal said gently as she stood slowly and lowered Sawyer into the crib a few feet from the bed. Sawyer immediately began fussing at the loss of contact so Neal started to gently rub his face again. The toddler was calm until Neal stopped again. Neal pulled a pillow off the bed and set it on the floor, sitting on it next to the crib. He reached the bars and started the calming motions again, causing his son to drift off once more.

Eventually, Sawyer was sleeping soundly and Neal pulled his arm back. He leaned against the edge of the crib as his eyes drooped shut. That was how Sara found them a couple hours later; Sawyer asleep in his crib and her boyfriend leaning against it fast asleep. She smiled at the sight of her boys and walked over to them, her movements slowed ever so slightly by her five month belly.

"Neal, Neal wake up," she said quietly, not wanted to wake her son. Neal slowly opened his eyes, blinking owlishly up at her. He looked very much like a sleepy toddler himself.

"Hey," he said quietly, "When did you get home?"

"A couple minutes ago," she said, "Come on, if you stay like that you're back will hurt tomorrow." He stood slowly and they sat on their bed, watching Sawyer as he slept.

"Four months and we'll have two of them to look after," Sara commented.

"Two months and I get my anklet off," Neal replied, "then we find a bigger place to live and get out of June's hair.

"You know shell make us come over at least twice a week with Sawyer and the baby," Sara said, smiling at him.

"That's true," Neal chuckled, "Come on, let's take a look at the classifieds and see if we can find somewhere to live in a couple months. We can give him his medicine as soon as he wakes up." Sara smiled and nodded and they walked over to look at the paper.

**There we go, it's done. I wasn't crazy about the end of this one, but I hope you liked it! {insert hopeful smiley}**

**I have had a crazy about of homework this week and I took a break from it today to write this. So, let me know what you thought and thank you to everyone who has favourited, followed, reviewed, and read this story!**


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